


Sweet June

by Dolimir



Series: Sweet June [1]
Category: Sweet November
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-26
Updated: 2011-05-26
Packaged: 2017-10-19 19:17:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/204323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dolimir/pseuds/Dolimir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So you’re saying there’s something wrong with me?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet June

**Author's Note:**

> I misremembered a line from the movie and thus this story was born.

“Excuse me, I...”

“Pardon me. Do you...”

“I just...” Brandon sighed heavily as the clerk disappeared once again into the warren of auto parts. At this rate, he was never going to make to make the meeting with his advisor.

“Hold on a second.”

Brandon started slightly as an astonishingly beautiful blonde woman stepped around him and palmed the service bell. When the clerk didn’t appear, she continued to hit it, all while shouting _hello_ at the top of her voice.

The badger-faced clerk finally darted forward and frowned at both of them.

“Excuse me,” the woman said politely, "but you have two individuals here who are just dying to part with their hard earned money. Do you happen to know anyone who might be kind enough to exchange a few goods for cash?”

Instead of swearing at her like Brandon expected him to do, the man gave the blonde a huge grin. “Why sure, sugar. What can I get for you?”

The woman clasped Brandon’s elbow and hauled him to the counter. When the clerk looked at him expectantly, Brandon simply handed him a piece of paper with the part number on it. The blonde did the same.

“Be back in a second.” And with that, the man disappeared again.

Brandon cleared his throat, then turned his head to look at his companion. “Thank you. If you hadn’t stepped forward I'd probably be late for my meeting.”

“You should have been obnoxious with the bell like I was.”

Brandon gave her a weak smile. Yes, he supposed he should have.

Before he could respond though, the clerk came back with their parts. Brandon handed him a twenty and waited for his change.

“Thank you again,” he told the woman. Tucking his package into his shoulder bag, he hurried out of the store. If God continued to smile on him, he might actually catch a trolley at the next stop and make his appointment with a few minutes to spare.

Luck was on his side and he hopped on the trolley and deposited his token before he worked his way to the middle of the car.

“Hey, didn’t you hear me calling you?”

A hand brushed his arm, startling him again. It was the blonde from the auto parts store.

“Excuse me?”

“You sure move fast. I didn’t think I was ever going to catch you.” She laughed, out of breath.

“Why...why did you want to catch me?

She smiled sweetly at him. “Because I thought I’d like to get to know you better.”

He looked around the car. Surely, she meant someone else. “Me?”

“Yes, you, silly. I’m Sara, by the way. Sara Deever. And you are?”

“A penniless art student.”

Sarah’s laugh was so infectious that Brandon felt himself smile.

“That’s not true. I happen to know for a fact that you have eleven dollars and forty-eight cents to your name.”

Despite his usual cautiousness nature, Brandon decided he liked Sara Deever. “Brandon,” he said shyly. “Brandon Wilde.”

*-*-*-*-*-*

“So you’re saying there’s something wrong with me?” Brandon asked, his voice devoid of emotion. He knew he shouldn’t have accepted the invitation for dinner. He’d been a fool to think that someone as beautiful as Sara could possibly be interested in him as anything other than a charity case.

“No,” Sara said in a firm, but slightly distressed, voice. She scooted closer to him on the couch and clasped his left hand between hers. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. You have such a wonderful outlook on life, Brandon, but you act like you’re afraid to express any sort of joy. I want to help you tear down those walls so you can experience life to the fullest.”

“Which I’m not doing now?”

“Can you honestly say that you are?”

Brandon withdrew his hand from Sara’s grasp, then stood and walked several feet away from the couch before he turned to face her again. “And just how do you propose to _fix_ me?”

Sara clasped her hands together and tucked them under her chin. “I want you to live with me for a month.”

“What? You don’t even know me. I could be insane or dangerous. You can’t just ask strange men to live with you.”

“Yes, I can; and you’re not strange or dangerous. You’re a good person with a beautiful soul.” Sara stood and took step toward him. “I know that you’re creative and that you feel things very deeply. I can tell that you have all sorts of feelings bubbling within you but if you don’t learn to let them out and experience them, Brandon, you’re going to die emotionally inside.” When she was close enough to touch him again, she took his hand again. “I have a gift, an ability to help men get in touch with themselves, and I want to help you.”

Before he could protest, Sarah leaned closer and brushed her mouth tenderly against his. Her tongue teased his lips until he hesitantly opened them and let her explore. When she finally pulled back, she leaned her forehead against his as they both panted softly.

“One month?” The words seemed to slip out of his mouth on their own.

She nodded. “You’ll live here with me for one month. No more. No less. And no work allowed.”

“But I’m in school until the end of May.”

She smiled proudly at him. “Perfect. We’ll start June first then.”

“I don’t have any extra money to help out with expenses.”

“Did you hear me ask for any money?”

“No, but I thought you should know up front.”

Sarah took his head in her hands and kissed him deeply. When the kiss was over, she continued to hold his head in her hands. “Stop looking for excuses, Brandon. Just let go and feel for once.”

Brandon swallowed nervously. “Just let go?”

She nodded encouragingly.

Looking into her eyes, Brandon smiled shyly, then wrapped his arms around her and kissed her with everything he had.

*-*-*-*-*-*

A smile found its way to Brandon’s face as the ocean waves washed over his bare feet. The water was cooler than he was expecting, but he made no effort to move back onto the drier sand. Gulls cried overhead while several birds he couldn’t identify ran back and forth in front of the surf. The sun was barely maintaining its altitude over the horizon. Its rays of brilliant oranges and purples looked like ropes trying to keep the orb out of the water.

“Don’t you just want to shout at the sun and encourage it to stay in the sky just a little bit longer?” Sara asked breathlessly beside him. Her pale cheeks were pink from the exertion of running up and down the beach. Her eyes danced with a joy that made her look ethereal, even more beautiful than usual.

He smiled at the enthusiasm, but remained silent. How did she keep from feeling insignificant next to such a vast waterscape or in life in general? How did she always remain so up? So full of life?

“Shout something, Brandon.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her.

She wiggled her fingers against his ribs. “Go on. You know you want to do it.”

He made a big production of clearing his throat. He looked at her, then looked toward the ocean. In a loud voice, he said, “Something.”

“Oh, you.” She popped him in the shoulder and he surprised himself by laughing at her outraged expression. “Okay, wise guy, do it again, but louder this time. Much louder.”

He rolled his eyes, but complied. It was easier than arguing with her about propriety on public beaches. She’d only point out that there was no one else on the beach except them anyway.

“You call that a shout? Come on, do it like this.” Sara took a deep breath and bellowed with a volume that impressed him.

Copying her stance, he yelled, “Stella!”

Sara dissolved into laughter and held onto his arm for support. When she finally pulled herself, she motioned at him to do it again.

“Yo, Adrian!” he roared at loud as he could.

“Rocky!” she yelled in response.

“Adrian!”

“Rocky!”

Brandon tried to yell 'Adrian' again but laughter stole his breath away. Sarah laughter mingled with his before she stepped away and started to spin. Brandon copied her, spinning and laughing until he collapsed. A second later, Sarah collapsed beside him, covering his sprawled body with hers, and rested her chin on his chest.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

“Free,” Brandon answered in a whisper. His chest heaved as his lungs continued to gasp for breath. He laughed again as he watched Sara’s head rise and fall in time with his chest. “Free,” he said in a louder voice.

Sara pushed herself to her knees beside him, then leaned down and kissed him. Her smile was radiant and she looked like she was going to burst with pride. “You are free, Brandon. You always have been.”

*-*-*-*-*-*

Upon reflection, Brandon decided that maybe he was gay. That wasn’t to say that sex with Sara wasn’t fun, it just wasn’t…

What?

Fulfilling.

That was it.

If he wasn’t gay, he had to be insane. What other red-blooded male could have a beautiful, intelligent, vivacious blonde laying sated in his arms and not be in love with her? That wasn’t quite right. He did love Sara. He did; but he knew himself well enough to know that he wasn’t in love with her. She was a wonderful woman and he knew they were going to be friends for the rest of their lives. He couldn’t imagine not having her in his life – just not in his life on a day-to-day basis.

Carding his fingers through her short hair, he smiled fondly at the top of her head. She really had done wonders for his self-esteem in the five days they’d been together and he knew the rest of the month would be pleasant enough; he just didn’t feel like he was being truthful with her and didn’t have a clue how to tell her how he was feeling.

As if realizing he was thinking about her, Sara looked up and smiled like a cat who had just awoken from a long, pleasant, sun-drenched nap.

“Have you ever done any acting?” she asked out of the blue.

He blinked in confusion, trying to realign his thoughts to her question. He knew better than to ask her why. The question was just typical of Sarah. “I was in two plays in my senior year.”

“Which parts?”

 

“I played Mortimer in _Arsenic and Old Lace_ and Joe in _Some Like it Hot_.”

Sara’s eyes grew big as she scrambled to sit upright beside him. The bed sheet slipped down her body and fell into her lap, exposing her breasts. “You’re kidding?”

“Why would I kid about something like that?” Brandon stared at the ceiling, blushing slightly over her nudity and wishing he were cool enough to be as casual about it as she was.

“You were on stage in front of an audience?”

He chuckled and raised his head high enough to shoot her a goofy grin. “Yes, Sara. It’s actually customary to put a play on in front of people.” He dropped his head back into the pillow and shook his head in amusement.

Sara straddled his hips and looked down into his face. “So why do you think you can let your inhibitions go in front of an audience, but not in real life?”

Brandon shrugged, not sure what answer she was seeking. “Because it wasn’t really me on stage.”

“What do you mean?” she asked encouragingly, like she already knew the answer but wanted him to discover it for himself.

“The audience wasn’t there to see Brandon Wilde. They were there to see Mortimer and Joe, and they aren’t anything like me. Why the sudden interest in my high school acting career?”

Sara grin was brilliant. “I have an idea.”

*-*-*-*-*-*

“What exactly...ow...is this little experiment...ow, damn it...supposed to accomplish?” Brandon gritted his teeth as Sara plucked another eyebrow.

“The reason you were so comfortable on stage is because you were in disguise and the world couldn’t see the real you.” Sara took his chin in her fingers and twisted it back and forth as she compared the eyebrows. Once she was happy, she adjusted the wig on his head. “You need to get comfortable with the idea of letting go of other people’s expectations of you. When you get comfortable with expressing your feelings, we’ll start taking off the layers until there’s only you.”

“But why a woman? Why can’t I just wear jeans and a cowboy hat or do the whole goth art student thing?”

Sara stepped back and smiled as she surveyed her handiwork. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

“Don’t try flattering me. I’m n-not...I’m...” He stuttered to a stop as she handed him a mirror. If he was a vain individual, which he wasn’t, he told himself firmly, he might be tempted to believe her. He reached up to touch his cheek, but she slapped his hand.

“Don’t. You’ll mess it up.”

Brandon shook his head harshly to break his narcissistic trance. “But why a woman?”

“Because anyone looking at you now would never know you were Brandon Wilde. You’re...Brandy, Brandon’s sister.” She nodded happily. “Brandy’s outrageous. She demands to be treated like a lady, and when she isn’t, she can really get her bitch on. But she’s sweet too, the type of woman any man could love.”

Brandon just blinked at her.

“Think of it as a way to explore the different sides of your personality without anyone judging you as Brandon.” She took the mirror away from him and set it on the table. “Besides, I’m pretty sure I have some old clothes that will fit you. I swear you don’t have any hips, but I’ll kill myself if you can fit into my 501s.”

Ten minutes later, he was dressed in a full-length floral skirt, with a sky blue satin tank top under a dark blue blouse. He wore a scarf that matched his skirt and Sarah had found a pair of shoes that not only fit him but went with the outfit.

Brandon couldn’t get over the fact that he really didn’t look anything like himself, which was rather scary on one hand, but very freeing on the other.

“When you speak, speak in your normal tone of voice. It’s a little deep for a woman, but it gives it gives you a certain allure.”

“What do you mean when I speak?”

Sarah patted his face and shook her head with affectionate exasperation, then grabbed her purse and headed down the stairs. “You didn’t think we were just going to stay in the apartment, did you? We’re going to do a test run by going out for lunch. And I know just the perfect place.”

“Sara. No. Sara, come back here!”

*-*-*-*-*-*

“Chaz, what are you doing here?” Sara practically skipped to a table where she immediately threw herself around a man who had been quietly eating his lunch and reading the paper.

“I’m playing hookey. You won’t rat me out, will you?”

“Of course not.”

Brandon studied Chaz closer as the man’s warm Scottish brogue washed over him. Handsome. Fit. Probably late thirties to early forties. Receding hairline, but it looked good on him. But there was something about his eyes that made Brandon pause.

“And just what are you doing here, sweetheart? I thought you were deep in the midst of June.”

“I am, but I’m taking the afternoon off to shop with my friend Brandy. Brandy, come say hello to Chaz.”

‘Showtime,’ thought Brandon as he moved closer to the couple.

“Brandy, this is Chaz. Chaz, Brandy.”

Brandon reached forward to shake hands and was carefully to adjust his grip so as not to appear overly butch.

“Brandy’s an art student,” Sara told Chaz.

Chaz’ eyes never left Brandon’s. “You don’t say?”

Brandon nodded nervously when Chaz held his hand a moment longer than was probably necessary.

“Will you ladies join me for lunch?” While the question was asked of both of them, Chaz’ gaze remained glued on Brandon.

“We’d love to,” Sara chimed happily before Brandon could make an appropriate apology.

In the future, when he'd look back and remember their lunch, he knew he’d never be able to remember what they talked about or what he ate. The only thing he was cognizant of was the heat of Chaz’ eyes as they all but devoured him. Brandon wanted to think he some how managed to be witty. After all, he’d made both of them laugh several times, but he couldn’t remember what he actually said.

Halfway through lunch he came to the realization he was gay. It took every ounce of his willpower not to choke on his meal.

He took several shallow breaths to calm his thundering heart and rubbed his forehead in an effort to stave off the migraine that threatened to consume him. How apropos that he should come to a life-altering realization about his sexuality while dressed as a woman, who was sleeping with an older woman, yet lusting after an even older man who had no idea that he wasn’t really a woman. Could his life get any better?

“Brandy, are you okay?” Sara asked.

He smiled weakly at her and nodded. “I’m just getting a little bit of a headache. Don’t mind me.”

“I think it’s more than a little headache. You’re positively ashen,” Chaz said with quiet concern.

“No, really. I’m fine.” Brandon pushed himself to his feet, but his balance was off and he stumbled slightly.

Chaz quickly stood and handed his wallet to Sara. “Lunch is on me, sweetheart. Would you be a doll and pay our bills? I’ll walk Brandy back to our place and make sure she lies down.”

Before Brandon could protest, one of Chaz’s arms was wrapped around his waist and he was being guided out of the café.

*-*-*-*-*-*

Chaz was exceedingly gentle with him as they walked back to the house. The older man murmured soft words of encouragement and asked Brandon twice if they should hail a cab. Brandon shook his head both times and reminded him that neither of them had any cash on hand.

Brandon tried to concentrate on walking without twisting his ankles and not on the delicate hint of musk that Chaz wore. When they finally reached the house, Brandon almost sobbed in relief.

Chaz guided him up the stairs, but instead of taking him up to Sara’s apartment, he steered him into the first floor apartment and into a bedroom.

“I’m not normally this easy on a first date,” Brandon said softly.

“How about the second date?” Chaz helped him onto the bed, then removed his shoes and unfurled a thick quilt over him.

Brandon “I don’t know. Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Well if I were, it would actually be our first date and you’ve already indicated that you don’t put out on a first date, which means in order to get anywhere I’d have to commit to at least two dates.” Chaz’ voice drifted as he ducked into the bathroom. Brandon could hear a cabinet open and a faucet run.

A moment later the mattress dipped. “Do you have any pharmaceutical allergies?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Here, then take these.” Chaz’ warm hands enveloped his and he dropped two pills into Brandon’s palm. He stood and helped Brandon sit up, then handed him a glass of water. Once he was satisfied that the pills had been swallowed, Chaz laid him back onto the mattress.

“Thank you.”

“No problem. Now close your eyes and try to rest.”

Brandon obeyed, although he had no intention of sleeping. He needed to think about what he was going to do concerning his newly discovered realization, but that thought had no more been made before he drifted off to sleep.

When he awoke, his mind felt fuzzy and it took him a moment to comprehend that it was not only dark in the room but outside as well. Looking over at the digital clock on the table beside the bed, he was shocked to discover it was eleven o’clock.

Poor Chaz. The man probably wanted to get some sleep but couldn’t because he had a stranger in his bed.

Brandon sat up and was surprised to find hair in his eyes.

The wig.

Of course.

He touched it several times to reassure himself that it was on straight, then immediately bent over and picked up Sara’s shoes. Sighing, he steeled himself for his, hopefully, graceful escape.

Opening the bedroom door, he found Chaz sitting on the couch, channel-surfing.

“You should have woken me up,” he said by way of greeting.

Chaz shrugged. “You looked like you needed the rest.”

Brandon nodded then pointed to the door. “I…should go. Thank you…for everything.”

But as he gripped the knob, he was stopped by a single word.

“Brandon.”

*-*-*-*-*-*

Brandon leaned his forehead against the door. “How did you know?”

“The scarf was a dead give away as it's meant to hide the Adam’s apple. Plus, there were your feet.”

“And Sara told you.”

“And Sara told me.” The voice was no longer in the front room; instead it was directly behind him.

“I was…I didn’t…mean to lie to you.”

“I know.”

“It was a silly game to…”

A hand touched his back. “I know. She told me.”

Chaz gently forced him to turn around. When Brandon wouldn’t lift his head, Chaz’ fingers stroked his chin and lifted it until their gazes locked. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s okay to be frightened.”

Brandon blinked back tears the kind words invoked in him. “My whole world is changing. And…”

“You don’t know if you want it to?”

He nodded at first, then shook his head and sighed.

“Lunch is when you realized…for the first time?”

Brandon was going to answer, but Chaz’ hand glided down Brandon’s neck to his chest and all coherent thoughts fled.

Because of me,” Chaz said with certainty.

“Yes.”

Chaz’ hand ghosted over Brandon’s abdomen and stopped. Brandon began to pant and it took every ounce of his resolve not to arch toward the older man. “Please,” he finally whispered.

“I thought you weren’t easy.”

“I lied.”

“Thank God.” Chaz chuckled as his fingers started to pull Brandon’s skirt higher and higher.

Brandon leaned his head against the door as Chaz ran a hand over the front of Brandon’s exposed briefs. “Have you ever done this before, sweetheart?”

“No, not with…”

“Then we won’t be doing it against a door, that’s for sure.” Chaz let the skirt fall back into place, took Brandon’s hand and led him back to the bedroom, flipping on the light as he did so. “Leave the shoes.”

Brandon obeyed by simply dropping the shoes to the floor and allowing himself to be pulled.

When they finally stopped beside Chaz' bed, Brandon reached up to unbutton his blouse, but Chaz’ hand stayed the action. “Please. Let me.”

Brandon trembled as Chaz expertly removed the blouse. He raised his hands obediently as Chaz grasped the bottom of tank and pulled upward. Chaz’ lips brushed against his as soon as the tank was pulled past his head. Brandon moaned and followed Chaz’ mouth, immediately surrendering when Chaz took over the kiss.

“My, you’re a responsive thing, aren’t you?”

Brandon ducked his head and blushed, but Chaz forced his chin up again and devoured him.

“Let’s take this off.” Chaz reached up and gently pulled off Brandon’s wig. He stepped back and studied Brandon’s face. “Hello, Brandon.”

Brandon grinned back. “Hello, Chaz.”

The smoldering look grew hotter as Chaz started to remove his own clothes. Brandon reached forward to help, but Chaz shook his head. Instead, he indicated that Brandon should sit on the bed, then slowly proceeded to undress for him, letting Brandon see exactly what he was getting.

“You know,” Brandon said quietly, “I think I’m going to like being gay.”

*-*-*-*-*-*

Chaz’ heart beat steadily under Brandon’s ear, comforting him and making him believe that he could get used to hearing it on a daily basis.

Sara had taught him a great many things about himself, and in an odd way, so had Chaz. He had no idea that sex could be so fulfilling. Chaz had totally rocked his world to the core and he prayed that he had given as well as he had gotten.

The clock beside the bed revealed that it was four and Brandon was shocked that so much time had passed. He tried to push himself up, but Chaz’ hands held him in place.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

“I…uh…that is, Sara…”

“Knows where you are and what you’ve been doing.”

“She does?”

“Yes, sweetheart, she does. Besides, it’s the height of crassness to leave the bed of your male lover and go to your female lover.” Chaz’ voice was full of humor and even though Brandon didn’t know him very well, he knew that Chaz was teasing him.

“Then maybe my male lover should give me a reason not to leave.”

“Oh, is that a challenge, my young buck?”

“It could be.”

 _Don’t be afraid to take what you want, Brandon. You need to give yourself permission to live, actually live._ Sara’s words echoed in his head, and before he could give them any more conscious thought he found himself straddled over Chaz’ hips. He looked down into the older man’s eyes and noticed that the heat he had seen earlier in the day was still there.

Brandon didn’t believe in love at first sight. He had always viewed it as nothing more than a fairy tale, but as he began to move over Chaz he thought maybe some fairy tales might be rooted in fact.

*-*-*-*-*-*

He awoke several hours later to find Sara sitting on the edge of the mattress.

“Well?” she asked expectantly.

Brandon could feel Chaz stirring behind him, could feel the older man’s erection starting to press against his backside, and could feel himself starting to harden again in anticipation. He was grateful that the quilt covering them was not only hiding the lower half of his body, but was thick as well.

He grinned at her and nodded.

“He’s mine now, Sara,” Chaz said in a rough, grumbly voice. “You better start looking for July.”

Her eyes twinkled with impishness. “But he still has three more weeks with me, Chaz.”

“He’ll not be coming back to your bed, dearest.”

“Well, I suppose he could sleep on the floor.”

“What?” Brandon asked, startled.

Sara laughter pealed around the room. When she calmed down, she leaned over and gently kissed Brandon on the lips. “Congratulations on finding what you were looking for.” She then leaned further over him and kissed Chaz. “Take care of him.”

“I will.”

Sara hopped off the bed and toward the door.

“Sara,” Brandon called after her.

She stopped and turned.

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

*-*-*-*-*-*

The morning was sunny and bright, despite the chill in the air. A slight breeze blew around them and Brandon was glad that Chaz had made him wear his heavier coat.

They walked side by side down the small brick pathway in silence, holding each other’s hands and exchanging sweet, silly, sexy smiles as they progressed.

When he had graduated from high school and moved out on his own, Brandon never would have believed that his life could have turned out to be as wonderful as it had.

The last two years had been filled with such incredible happiness, with only a valley or two of overwhelming sadness. He had graduated art school and was working for a very exclusive art gallery and teaching art through the gallery’s outreach program. While Chaz had flirted briefly with the idea of Brandon working for Baker Bohanen, they both agreed, after discussing it for a while, that it was probably for the best if he didn’t. While they both enjoyed working on artistic projects together, they both knew they probably shouldn’t do it on a daily basis.

They veered off the path and walk over the wet grass, but neither of them minded.

Once they had reached Sara’s grave, they both stopped, although neither of them released the hand of the other.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Chaz greeted quietly.

“Hey, Sara,” Brandon greeted as well. “Well, we did it. We have no doubt that Governor Schwartzenneger is going to put a stop to the ceremonies pretty soon and that all the marriages will probably be annulled by the courts before the end of the year, but we did it. Chaz and I got married this morning. And no matter what the government says or does, they can’t take away the fact that we made a commitment to each other.”

Chaz squeezed his hand. “We wish you had been there, sweetheart. It would have been fitting, seeing as you’re the one who introduced us. But we know that even if you weren’t there in body, you were there in spirit, blessing us as you had blessed us in life.”

“Thank you,” Brandon whispered. Tears burned his eyes and he cleared his throat so that he could talk past the lump. “Thank you for chasing me onto the trolley that day. Thank you for believing in me and showing me that I could let my walls down. Thank you for introducing me to Chaz. But most of all, Sara, thank you for being a part of my life.”

“You are most definitely missed, sweetheart.”

When the tears finally started to roll down Brandon’s cheeks, Chaz turned and held him tightly within his arms. “No sad tears, Brandon.”

“They aren’t, Chaz. I swear.”

Chaz framed Brandon’s face in his hands and kissed each eyelid sweetly, then his nose, and finally his mouth. “Come on, husband, let’s go home.”

Brandon smiled and nodded.

Husband.

What a stunning word.

And all because of a beautiful woman and a warm sweet day in June.


End file.
